Twister
by Invader Vega
Summary: There's something familiar about you. Dorothy/Scarecrow, Elmira/The Wizard.


_I figure I should explain the Oz universe I'm using for this. It's mostly 1939-movie based, especially the deal with the Kansas counterparts. Dorothy is Judy Garland-style, but a little younger. The witches are the most different – I'm using the witches from The Wiz, which means 4 witches (Glinda, Addaperle, Evillene, and Evvamene). Glinda is the Witch of the South, Addaperle is of the North, Evillene is of the West, Evvamene is of the East. I'm not using any of Elphaba's characterization from Wicked, but I am probably going to use the backdrop of Wicked's Oz. Also, I'm seeing the Wizard/Professor Marvel as being somewhat younger than in the movie._

_In regards to ships, there's a lot. The list of important ones is: Dorothy/Scarecrow, Dorothy/Hunk, Elmira/The Wizard, Evillene/The Wizard, Elmira/Professor Marvel, and Addaperle/Tin Man. More might appear, but don't count on it._

* * *

"Tin Man?"

"Scarecrow?"

Scarecrow took a deep breath, and sat himself down on the log. They had gone out in the forest that day, in an attempt to distract the Scarecrow from his recent bout of depression.

"You said the other day that you built a machine that could stop cyclones. ...Does it work?"

The Tin Man shrugged uncertainly. "We haven't had any cyclones before. There's no way to test it unless we could get rather a lot of wind out of nowhere. Why?"

Scarecrow stared at the earth beneath his straw-filled shoes, and was silent for awhile. He plucked a pale blue daisy and twirled it, staring into its bright yellow center. For a moment, he lifted his other hand as if he was going to tear off one of its petals, but then it dropped back down to his leg and he sighed, placing the flower in his hat.

"Could you possibly...switch it so that it brings a cyclone instead of keeping them away?"

The Tin Man had expected this somehow, but he tried not to let that on. "Why would you want that?" he asked slowly, and attempting to remain casual so as not to vex the Scarecrow. Scarecrow did not seem to hear him.

"Could you, Tin Man...?"

"I...don't know. Maybe. But it's just as likely that I couldn't. Keeping things away and bringing them forth are two very different things. But please, my friend," the Tin Man implored, "put your thoughts away from bringing cyclones. What would your subjects think, Your Majesty?

The Scarecrow went slack and collapsed against the log. He blinked up at the Tin Man, but otherwise gave the impression that he really was nothing more than a lifeless sack of straw.

"You know why I want a cyclone," he muttered.

"Yes," the Tin Man sighed, "I know. We all miss her dearly, you know, not just you."

"I want to see her," the Scarecrow said bluntly. "She'll never return here, you know that. She said it herself...there's no place like home."

"Is that why you want to go to her?" the Tin Man asked.

"...I just want to see her again."

* * *

Dorothy stared dumbly at the scarecrow perched over the field. It remained motionless. She clutched weakly at her tin can, which she had found discarded on the side of the road, washed carefully, and begun to carry around with her. It was now placed safely in her lap as she gazed at the scarecrow up on the pole, willing it to come alive. She didn't know why she did these things. The day before, she had sewn several tiny, scrappy-looking lions out of her aunt Em's scrap fabric. It had taken her the better part of the night to do it, much to the worriment of her aunt and uncle. But it had been worth it. The lions surrounded her windowsill now, protecting her from intruders. At least, that was the fancy she had, being a young girl with few friends.

However, this description of Dorothy Gale was quickly becoming less and less accurate. She was no longer a girl. It had come quite rapidly. One morning, she awoke to find that her boyish, stocky, farmer-girl frame had softened and curved in the places that a woman curved in. It had been quite an unpleasant realisation. She had bloomed surprisingly late - seventeen. Or perhaps she had grown gradually this whole time and she was only just noticing now. After the cyclone, Dorothy noticed far more than she ever had before, in a desperate bid to remain interested in her daily life. Since her recent womanhood, her aunt Em had forbidden Dorothy from most of her normal activities. As a young woman, Dorothy could no longer help her uncle Henry and the farmhands with the crops (despite that they desperately needed the help), play with Toto as roughly, or even wear anything but frilly, impractical, stifling pinafores.

She also was not allowed to even talk to the farmhands. They were "coarse, vulgar, and low" according to her uncle Henry. Never mind that they were practically her brothers and they would die before hurting her. Especially Hunk. Hunk had been the closest thing Dorothy ever had to a human best friend. And he was leaving anyway. Agricultural college. Gone like the rest.

* * *

Elmira Gulch shut her drapes. She could not bear to watch any more as Professor Marvel rode away for the last time.

_Oscar Davis sailed over a vast desert, and thought he saw a woman on a broom pass in front of the sun. But that was impossible apparently._

He looked so much like Oscar too. It was like watching him fly away a second time. The cat meowed for dinner.

_Oscar had tried to stay loyal to her. But he had been gone such a __very long time. She had likely died...or moved on herself._

_Evelina looked so much like her he couldn't stand it. And she had been green - his favorite color, the color of his mother country and his balloon and of the suit he wore when he last flew away and of Elmira's eyes when she saw her beloved float away for the last time..._

_It had come back to haunt him. Evelina always knew he was nothing more than a man. However, she was far more than any woman could ever be. Even Elmira._

Elmira always fancied herself to be a little magic.

_Evelina was not good at ending relationships. That was a gross understatement, but at the core it was the truth. She had fallen a little bit - a lot bit, really - in love with him. He had wanted to return it._

_But Oscar could never love her when he saw Elmira staring out of her blue-black eyes._

Elmira turned on her lamp. The shade was a gaudy, beaded, Bohemian concoction dripping with tassles and green silk. It was prettier than anything else she had ever owned. She bought it from Professor Marvel.

The light shone through and cast her pale skin a shade of smoky emerald. The effect was nigh angelic.

* * *

Addaperle, the Witch of the North, saw all in her sphere. It had been her sister Evillene's (Evelina, she mentall corrected herself), but after her death Addaperle figured that she wouldn't need it anymore. So she had...liberated it.

They said Glinda was the only real magic left in Oz. They were hilariously wrong.

Addaperle had a great deal more power than she often claimed. It was partially because of her alignment: not evil, but not completely good either. She did what pleased her. What seemed like a good idea. What would prove the most interesting. It let her use all sorts of interesting magic neither Glinda nor Evelina or Evanna could have ever used, because it was an ambiguous sort that could be used for either purpose.

Addaperle saw Dorothy in the sphere. She saw the Scarecrow weeping and the Tin Man pondering and Hunk packing and Evelina melting and Elmira watching and the mysterious Wizard of Oz flying away...

Addaperle could right it. She could wrong it as well.

* * *

Professor Marvel took a swig from his flask and grinned. It was good to be home.

And in both lands, a storm began to blow.


End file.
